


Tongue like electric, eyes like a child

by glitterlarries



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Coming Out, Famous Harry, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Uni Student Louis, maybe more like ninety five, this is like at least eighty per cent fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 01:39:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7385770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterlarries/pseuds/glitterlarries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>'He’s not sure why he cares, really. There’s just something about this boy that intrigues him, and not in the whole starstruck, meeting a celebrity kind of sense. Harry is very interesting and Louis feels sad for a moment that he will never really get a chance to know him for real, that in twenty minutes at the absolute most, Harry will walk out of his life for good. It’s a shame.' </i>
</p><p> </p><p>or</p><p>Harry stumbles into Louis in a kebab shop at two in the morning, and nothing will ever be quite the same again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tongue like electric, eyes like a child

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whensixteenmeteighteen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whensixteenmeteighteen/gifts).



> Written for this prompt: 'Harry Styles- the world's biggest singer-songwriter, "womanizer", fashion icon, sex idol- can't sleep. It's half past 2 am and Harry decides to take a walk and finds himself stumbling into a 24 hour pizza shop that doesn't get much business at this hour on a tuesday night.  
> Louis Tomlinson- the world's biggest procrastinator, a drama student with a paper due for his english literature Prof. due by Thursday takes the familiar route to his favourite pizza place instead of getting some well-needed rest or writing the intro to his paper AGAIN.'
> 
> I've changed a couple of things a little bit, but I think overall I've stuck to your prompt- hope you like it!! 
> 
> Title comes from Say You Don't Want It by One Night Only.
> 
> Thank you so much to Emily/wellingtontat/larrymylove for beta-ing this for me!

1-LOUIS-

 

Time and time again, Louis Tomlinson has told himself that next time he won’t leave his essays to the last minute. Time and time again, he has failed to do this. This is why it’s currently two in the morning and he’s sitting at his desk on the chair with the suspicious stains as he finishes his bibliography. He finished the essay at least half an hour ago, but referencing always takes forever. It’s not a great essay, but it probably won’t get below forty per cent and that’s all he needs. First year not counting has been his saving grace all year, really. He’s not sure what he’ll do next year when he actually has to try.

 

It’s not that he’s lazy so much as it’s just he isn’t all that into any of the compulsory modules the first year of his English Literature degree is made up of. It will be better next year- he got all his first choice modules and can’t wait to finally be studying literature he actually enjoys. The essay he just completed is about chivalry in the medieval romance genre and if he ever has to read _Le Morte Darthur_ again, it will be too soon. Safe to say, Medieval Lit is something he will be leaving firmly behind him when he goes into second year. _If_ he gets into second year, he supposes he should say. Term’s nearly over, though, and he’s yet to actually fail anything so really his chances are good.

 

Louis checks through his references and skims through the style guide one last time. He really fucking hates MHRA referencing and vows that if he was an academic he would invent a new style of his very own. He’s not going to be an academic, though. He’s not sure entirely what he’ll be, but he knows he lacks the interest and drive to be a professional student. Content that everything’s just about right, Louis realises that he’s hungry and decides to reward himself with food before getting a couple of hours sleep before handing the essay in and going to his single Monday morning seminar.

 

Heading into the kitchen, Louis realises that he’s run out of food. The plan had been to go shopping that evening, but then he'd suddenly remembered his essay and so that trip had been pushed back to the next day. Sadly, twenty-four hour Tesco is not twenty-four hours on a Sunday, so he can’t make good use of his current liveliness and hunger by doing his weekly shop right now. He’d love a McDonalds too, but like Tesco, the McDonalds near his uni accommodation is open twenty-four hours a day and night on every day and night except for a Sunday. Louis decides to reward himself with a takeaway instead, as the kebab shop just down the road stays open until the early hours of the morning, even on a Sunday.

 

Louis puts his laptop in his backpack as he leaves, deciding that as the twenty-four-hour (even on a Sunday) library is only ten minutes walk from the kebab shop he can get the essay printed out after he’s eaten. He decides against bringing his headphones and listening to music as he walks-- he’s always had this thing for the quiet of night. Not that it’s ever all that quiet around here in the student village he lives in with at least a few thousand other first year students. It’s quietest, he’s learnt, at around half five AM. That’s a little after most return from nights out and a little before the exercise types get up and go jogging. Louis shudders distastefully at the thought of it- he goes running at night and he feels like that makes him a more chill version of an exercise type.

 

The wonderful smell of chips greets Louis as he enters the kebab shop. Technically, as he has said to the owner many times- drunk and sober, they shouldn’t really call it a kebab shop because it doesn’t sell donner kebabs. He knows that this is because the owner is morally opposed to them, and every time he comes in he likes to have a little chat about such ethics. He sells everything else, though, Louis has always been a particular fan of the pizza and chips combo for just five pounds. That’s what he decides he’s going to get now, and he’s just about to properly enter the empty shop when suddenly the door opens again and someone almost stumbles right into him.

 

“Whoa, steady there.” Louis says, placing a hand on the person’s shoulder and steadying him. He’s quite a lot taller than Louis, and when Louis steps back to look at him properly he almost has a heart attack.

 

“Sorry about that, I’m not the most graceful of people and- oh.” the boy- he is a boy, Louis thinks. He definitely doesn’t look any older than Louis is.  He has long legs and curly hair and the loveliest face Louis thinks he’s maybe ever seen. He looks oddly familiar, though Louis can’t quite place him.

 

“Oh what?” Louis asks curiously, all the while still trying to work out how it is he recognises this boy.

 

“Just I wasn’t quite expecting to walk into you- into anyone, I mean- like here, now, y’know?” Louis doesn’t know, not really, but decides not to press the matter. This boy is beautiful and Louis kind of just wants to hear him talk some more, whatever it is he has to say. Louis is about to ask what this clearly sober but impeccably dressed and crazy gorgeous person is doing in this little kebab shop but is interrupted by the owner, Jon. Louis decides Jon is now dead to him, all donner kebab banter completely thrown out of the window.

 

“You’re Harry Styles!” Jon exclaims, pointing at the beautiful boy. And yup, there it is. That’s who he is, and that’s how Louis recognises him. Wow. This boy really is Harry Styles, the teen dream party boy womanizer himself. He’s far prettier in person than he is on Louis’ sister Lottie’s posters, and that’s really saying something.

 

“Yeah, um. I am.” Harry replies, blushing for some reason and looking down at his feet. Not the sort of behaviour Louis would have expected from someone like him, given the way everyone talks about him. Louis is intrigued.

 

“Can I get an autograph for my daughter?” Jon asks, and Harry nods. It’s then that he seems to flick a switch in himself and looks up to face both of them, grinning a sunshiney grin that Louis can’t help but notice doesn’t seem to reach his eyes. Louis observes Harry as he shakes Jon’s hand, asks him how old his daughter is and what her name is.

 

“So what can I get you?” Jon asks Harry once the note’s been written for his daughter.

 

“He was here first,” Harry says, pointing to Louis behind him, giving him a small smile. Louis smiles back and shrugs.

 

“It’s okay, not like there’s a massive queue or anything. You go ahead.” Louis tells him. Honestly he just wants to stand and watch Harry Styles a little longer.

 

“No, um. I don’t exactly know what I want to order so I was hoping to just copy you…” Harry tells him, a slight blush appearing on his beautifully sculpted cheeks. Louis laughs and moves closer to Harry and the counter, looking properly at the boy again. It seems his laugh has somehow put Harry at ease somewhat, a small smile on his lips as he looks back at Louis.

 

“But what if I had horrible taste in food, what then?” Louis teases, raising an eyebrow and putting a hand on his hip. He’s being ridiculous, he knows. It’s just who he is, really, and he loves the way Harry giggles as he continues, “What if I was reaaaally into anchovies? What if, god forbid, I was a vegan?” Louis widens his eyes as he says it and turns properly towards Harry. Jon’s in the background laughing, Harry’s now raised his eyebrow and is standing in a very similar pose to Louis’. If Louis didn’t know better, he’d think maybe Harry was flirting back.

 

“You’re in a kebaby at two in the morning on a Sunday, I highly doubt you’re a vegan.” Harry replies. Louis sighs dramatically.

 

“That’s true, and you’re right. I’m not a vegan, though this place does have morals- Jon, tell Harry about your moral objections to selling the classic donner kebab.”

 

“Shut up and order, Louis.” Jon replies, rolling his eyes and hitting Louis affectionately over the head with one of the leaflets that serve as menus.

 

“I’ll have the pepperoni and jalapeno pizza please, Jon. Chips too of course. Curly here’ll have the same apparently.” Louis says to Jon, then turns to Harry who’s just watching him, a strange smile on his face. “Only five quid for both ya know, I mean what a bargain!”

 

“Yeah, that sounds like it’s um, very good value.” Harry replies, then hands over a twenty pound note and gestures for Jon to keep the change. Louis notices that Jon then goes over to the food preparation area and he turns to Harry again, surprise on his face.

 

“You don’t need to-”

 

“I wanted to. Anyway, I wouldn’t have known what to order without your expert opinion, would I?”

 

“Alright. Um, thanks.” Louis says, deciding to graciously accept the free food from this boy he thinks is probably a millionaire.

 

“No problem.” Harry says, smiling tentatively, looking strangely nervous.

 

Neither say anything else for a little while. Louis keeps sneaking furtive glances at Harry, apparently lost in his own world. He’s not on his phone or staring into space or anything, it’s more like he’s taking in his surroundings and just thinking very hard. If Louis knew him better, or if he wasn’t worried about being too intrusive or whatever, he’d ask Harry what he was thinking.

 

He’s not sure why he cares, really. There’s just something about this boy that intrigues him, and not in the whole starstruck, meeting a celebrity kind of sense. Harry is very interesting and Louis feels sad for a moment that he will never really get a chance to know him for real, that in twenty minutes at the absolute most, Harry will walk out of his life for good. It’s a shame.

 

Their orders are ready at the same time and both approach the counter together. Louis goes all out with his chips, agreeing to extra salt, vinegar, mayo, and ketchup. Harry just has ketchup and Louis notices his distasteful look at Louis’ own very covered portion and giggles as he carries his food over to one of the small tables in the corner. Harry makes to follow him and then hesitates, hovering near the table and looking unsure. It’s very sweet and very strange to see someone like Harry Styles so… so lost-looking, Louis supposes.

 

“You’re welcome to sit with me,” Louis tells Harry, pulling chair next to him out. Harry seems to visibly relax at that and smiles gratefully as he sits.

 

“Thank you, sorry if I’m being annoying, you can just ask me to leave if you want.” Harry says, and Louis feels his heart break slightly in two at seeing how insecure he is. He’d never really imagined meeting Harry Styles or wondered what he was like in person, but if he had he wouldn’t in a million years have imagined him being like this. He’d never imagined meeting Harry Styles and instantly wanting to tuck him into bed and protect him from the rest of the world. He’d never have guessed that his first impression of someone this famous and this charming would be that he needs looking after.

 

“You’re not annoying me at all, Harry.” Louis replies, knowing that asking if he’s done anything to make Harry feel this way is the wrong question. It’s not about him.

 

“Pizza’s amazing,” Harry says after a short moment of them both eating the food in comfortable silence.

 

“Glad you like it,” Louis smiles, dipping a crust into some of the mayonnaise on his chips. They continue eating quietly for a few minutes until Louis decides it’s finally time to address the slight elephant in the room, to ask the question that’s been on the tip of his tongue since bumping into Harry Styles in his local kebaby.

 

“So um, what brings you here?”

 

“Here as in this kebab establishment?”

 

“Yes, why are you in this kebab establishment?”

 

“Because I was hungry?”

 

“Are you being evasive, Mr Styles?”

 

“A little bit. Nah, I’m here because I did a show here earlier tonight, went to a club, wasn’t feeling it, needed a walk to clear my head and learn to breathe again. Realised I was hungry, realised I was in front of somewhere I could buy food.” Harry tells him with a shrug. Louis nods and eats a chip.

 

“What about you- er Louis, right?”

 

“Right. What about me?”

 

“What brings you here?”

 

“Oh, I was up late finishing an essay. I finished the essay, I was hungry and had no food left in the flat, so decided to come here on my way to the library to print it off.” Louis explains.

 

“What was the essay about? What are you studying?” asks Harry.

 

“It’s really shit and boring and about those Arthurian legends. I’m studying English Lit.”

 

“That’s cool, English was one of my favourite subjects at school,”

 

“I didn’t know you were old enough to go to school,” Louis teases.

 

“Heeeey,” Harry tries to frown but it only lasts a second or two before smiling widely and showing off his magnificent dimples.

 

“How old are you, anyway?” Louis asks. He should probably know this, given his sister’s obsession with Harry and the gentle crush he’d had on the sweet curly boy back when Harry was on X Factor.

 

“I turned nineteen last month.” Harry replies, giving Louis a challenging look as if this proved how old and mature he was.

 

“You should be a Fresher like me, then!” Louis comments, thinking about how Harry’s life could quite easily have turned out similar to his own.

 

“You’re nineteen too?”

 

“Nah, I know I look about sixteen but I’m actually twenty-one. Ended up taking two gap yahs.” Louis replies, shrugging and hoping Harry picks up on the reference.

 

“Ah yes, Tarquin. But how do you know I’m not currently on my own gap yah?” Harry says, putting on the voice.

 

“Good point, you are doing what everyone does on their gap year after all, aren’t you? Take a year or two out to become a global sensation, then go off to uni. I was unconventional and spent most of mine working at Waitrose, but ya know.” Louis jokes. Harry laughs and then smiles and then his face suddenly goes very serious.

 

“Sometimes I kind of wish I could do that.” Harry says quietly. Louis, not knowing what else to do just gives him a gentles smile and asks Harry if he wants to go with him to the library once they’ve finished their food, Harry nods and then changes the subject.

 

Ten minutes later finds Louis walking down the road to the library with Harry. They’re not saying much but it’s a very soft, comfortable silence. Louis is content just to be for that moment, content just to be feeling the cool early morning breeze and that surreal almost ethereal tiredness that comes when you’re seeing the sun rise and you’re completely sober but almost dizzy with the light of your happiness and laughter and the people around you. It’s a feeling that doesn’t come often to Louis, or maybe to anyone really, but there’s just something about this night- this morning, really. Louis knows that it’s probably more that there’s just something about the boy walking quietly alongside him, but he feels like there’s no point pondering that at present. It’s okay just to be.

 

Things get louder, brighter, and yet somehow also softer when they reach the library. They seem to be the only people in there at this time, exam season not yet having kicked off.

 

“Thoughts on this authentic university library?” Louis asks Harry as he logs into his laptop and emails the document to his university account. Next, he logs onto one of the PCs and opens up the document and clicks ‘print’. He knows he should probably proofread it again, but honestly he knows it’s not bad enough to get below a forty. All he can really think is how glad he is that first year doesn’t count.

 

“There are a lot of books here.” Harry comments, and if it was anyone else Louis would make a sarcastic comment. It’s Harry, though, and Louis just somehow knows that this is meant to be a joke. Not only that, but Louis finds this attempt at a joke… funny. He’s laughing now, giggling in an almost hysterical way as he gets up to scan his student card on the printer.

 

-

 

It’s only as Louis’ waiting outside his seminar room four hours later that the strangeness of his night really begins to occur to him. He met Harry Styles in his local kebab shop and hung out with him for hours and got on really well. So well, in fact, that Harry had asked to swap numbers before they’d parted ways at about five that morning and invited Louis to his hotel for brunch after his seminar finishes. And Louis had agreed. And it had had nothing to do with Harry’s fame and everything to do with the fact that Louis doesn’t think he’s ever connected with anyone like that before. Louis just can’t shake or really even fully understand that feeling of somehow straight away falling into easy friendship and this kind of unspoken understanding, but that’s what he thinks just happened.

 

The seminar passes slowly. Louis has actually read the book this time, but unfortunately he is the only person in this group who has. Everyone else is just kind of blagging it based on the content of the lectures and whatever they saw on the online summaries, and Louis is honestly a bit too tired and annoyed to feel smug that he did the reading. He talks a little bit to the seminar leader about it, though, and says to her that he honestly loved it. It had been a short novel which had been translated from its original Welsh and was about this poor family in North Wales at around the time of the first world war. It had been so clever and warm and yet also incredibly political and angry and Louis had honestly been in awe of it all. He’d felt a bit like a fanboy at the previous week’s lectures knowing that his lecturer had been the one to translate the masterpiece that had him crying for the Welsh even more than he had when he’d first watched Pride. Louis knows it’s hypocritical because he’s not the most consistent with his reading, but he really is quite annoyed that no one else in his seminar group took the time to read it.

 

It’s as Louis’ walking out of the humanities building and into town that he finally begins to process the actual strangeness of everything. He is on his way to Harry Styles’ hotel to meet him for brunch. Honestly, like- what the fuck? It’s all so very strange but talking to Harry and being around him had felt all so very right. And even if it wasn’t- well, Louis’ never going to pass up the opportunity for a free breakfast now is he?

 

Louis gets to Harry’s hotel and sends Harry a text as he waits in the lobby:

 

_Im down in the lobby of ur hotel. Feed me! Lx_

 

For just a moment Louis worries and wonders about the tone of this text and the inclusion of a kiss. Then he decides he’s being stupid and that it’s stupid to even consider being anyone but himself in his texts. Louis puts kisses at the end of practically every text he sends, so it really would have been weirder not to give Harry one.

 

Harry appears just a minute or so later. He’s changed into less formal clothes than he was wearing last night, signature black skinny jeans replaced with light blue ones and floral shirt replaced with a baggy lavender jumper. His hair is loosely tied up in a bun on top of his head and he looks ridiculously beautiful in pastels that Louis thinks he might cry. Harry smiles at him and Louis is reminded once again of how much he’d fancied him when he was on X Factor three years ago. He needs to stop, though. He can enjoy looking at this boy he thinks he may now be friends with, but that’s all it will be and he needs to remember that.

 

“Hi Lou,” Harry greets him, and Louis’ chest feels all warm at the nickname and the easy, casual nature that their friendship already seems to have reached. “You look nice.” Harry comments, and Louis tries not to die a little. He certainly is dressed better than he was when they’d met much earlier that morning, having showered and replaced his joggers with tight black jeans and his hoodie with a wide necked t shirt and denim jacket. Louis kind of knows he’s looking good and hearing Harry say it makes his tummy feel funny and fizzy in a good and bad way.

 

“Likewise,” Louis replies, “I love your jumper!”

 

“Thank you, I bought it last week actually. American Apparel was doing two for forty pounds and honestly I couldn’t resist, you know?” Harry tells him, and Louis just nods absently and follows Harry through the hotel, presumably to wherever the restaurant is. His mind is just a little bit full of what Harry’s just said is all. First of all it’s quite amusing to him that someone as rich as Harry probably is still likes a good bargain, but there’s something else as well. It’s just… most straight boys, in Louis’ experience, don’t tend to go into detail about their clothes. And it’s just- it’s just that more than once last night Louis had wondered and this… and Lottie had mentioned once that a lot of his fans think he might be… anyway, this just makes him wonder a little bit more.

 

Louis snaps back to reality and to the present situation when he realises they’re in the lift area waiting for a lift. And for reasons that are mainly to do with who he is as a person he can’t help but make a potentially inappropriate comment:

 

“Taking me up to your bedroom are you Styles? I’m sorry to tell you that I’m not that kind of boy, you’ll have to at least buy me food first.” If it comes out more flirtatious than it was supposed to, well. Louis glances at Harry, trying to read his reaction on his face. Harry, thankfully, just blushes slightly and giggles before shaking his head.

 

“I’ve ordered us most of the room service breakfast menu, thought it would be more chill to just eat up here. Is that okay?” He seems to get less sure of himself as he says this, and Louis frowns to himself.

 

“Of course that’s okay, Harry.” Louis replies, patting Harry’s shoulder reassuringly.

 

“Okay, great!” Harry grins, and for a moment Louis is reminded of the baby in the sun from Teletubbies. He decides to tell Harry as much as they get into the lift together.

 

“I always saw myself more as Tinky Winky.” Harry comments, shrugging. Louis feels his face maybe splitting apart with how much he’s smiling at how serious Harry sounds, at how serious this discussion of The Teletubbies apparently is. Harry’s just… he’s just so hopelessly endearing and Louis is ridiculously charmed.

 

“I used to get called Tinky Winky at school actually,” Louis recalls, “well, Twinky Winky really. Accurate, but ya know. Just not really what you want when you’re still getting used to the whole gay thing yourself.” Louis isn’t sure why he’s telling Harry this at all, it’s just that Harry’s so easy to talk to and the words come easily from his mouth and somehow looking back on bad shit from school doesn’t make him feel squirmy for once.

 

“Yeah, I know.” Harry replies quietly, and it’s only when they’ve been sat eating at the table in Harry’s suite for about fifteen minutes that Louis actually processes Harry’s words and what they might possibly mean.

 

-

 

It’s been hours and Louis’ kind of lost track of time. It’s almost like time doesn’t really exist in Harry’s hotel room or more like time doesn’t exist when he’s with Harry… that’s a bit weird and scary to think of this early in their friendship, though, so Louis decides to put that thought on his shelf of thoughts he currently doesn’t think he should be thinking for the time being. Anyway, it’s been a long time and at the same time it’s like it’s been no time. The food had been amazing and then they’d played a game of FIFA but they’ve spent the last couple of hours just sitting at opposite ends of the sofa talking. They’re not talking about anything in particular, they’re talking kind of like people who have been friends for years and not just a day. Louis has Harry in stitches of laughter talking about the state his flatmate Liam was in when he got back from rugby initiation last term, and Louis thinks he might die laughing when Harry tells him about the time he accidentally threw up in Simon Cowell’s shoes.

 

There’s something so weird about the kind of suspended time it feels like they’re currently living in. Louis thinks it’s maybe to do with how finite and fragile it all really is. He knows that Harry is leaving this evening, knows that a call from his assistant telling him Harry should really start getting ready to leave is imminent. He knows that as much as it feels like time has stopped, it hasn’t and their time has almost come to an end. This time will end and it will probably never be like this again. Their time together here will end and it’s likely that he’ll never see Harry again after today. That thought affects him much more than he expects it to.

 

Sure enough, Harry’s phone starts ringing ten minutes later. Harry checks who it is and tells Louis apologetically that he’ll have to take it. After a short conversation that on this end seems to consist mainly of Harry saying “yes, okay” to the person on the other end of the line, the call ends.

 

“That was my assistant. I’m leaving for the airport in like an hour.” Harry says quietly, biting his lip. His expression is strange, unreadable, and Louis is really not sure what to do or say.

 

“So I’d better er- better get going then, best be on my way. Uh-” Louis isn’t sure why he’s stumbling over his words now, isn’t sure why a part of him feels like he just needs to get out of the room as soon as possible. Well, actually he does know exactly why. Louis does not like saying goodbye and he currently does not want to face the reality that he’s probably never going to see this boy again. Today and last night probably meant an awful lot more to him than they did to Harry and-

 

“Louis, please stop for a moment,” Harry says, gently putting a hand on Louis’ arm as he reaches for the door handle. “I’m not ready to say goodbye to you just yet and I, er- well I wanted to ask if you wanted to keep in touch. Of course I understand if you don’t and, like, um-”

 

“I want to keep in touch.” Louis says quickly.

 

“Good, I’m glad. And um- I just wanted to say as well that I’m really glad I met you and that I feel like this pull, or something towards you, you know?” Harry turns to Louis and Louis just nods because he’s been thinking the same thing.

 

They don’t say anything for a moment and Louis knows why and he feels like Harry knows why too. There’s just something electric there, something delicate and fragile but so very vibrant and sparkling and real. And Louis isn’t all that sure what that thing is, all he knows is that it’s there and he feels it and that Harry feels it to. It’s too early to put words to it, but it’s something they both sort of have to silently acknowledge.

 

“Anyway, I won’t delay you any longer Haz. So um, please text me and call me and facetime me if you can. I want to be your friend.” Louis says the last part almost in a whisper, feeling sort of stupid. It’s just… just that asking to be someone’s friend is so childlike, so innocent and yet so overwhelmingly scary as well, kind of.

 

“Good, ’cause I want to be your friend too.” Harry replies, a beautifully shy and gentle smile on his face. Louis giggles at the whole lovely strangeness of the whole situation and finds himself folding his body into Harry’s in a hug that doesn’t feel even a little bit strange or scary.

 

Hugging Harry doesn’t feel strange or scary at all, it feels like coming home. And that’s maybe the scariest thing.

 

 

2- HARRY-

 

Harry wonders if maybe an hour after saying goodbye is too soon to text Louis. It’s just he’s in a car on the way to the airport and already he’s kind of bored and already he misses Louis. Oh dear. If he is about to text Louis, he probably shouldn’t text that he misses him. That would maybe be a little weird or clingy or something. Like Harry might be a little weird and clingy and a lot something, but Louis doesn’t have to know that straight away, does he? At the same time, though, Harry isn’t sure what else he could say in this first probably pivotal text message. He does miss Louis already, that’s the truth of it all and that’s the reason he’s already got his phone out to message him. So really, why not?

 

Harry breathes out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding as he types out his message for Louis. He decides upon ‘Missing you already!!’ with lots of emojis that are kind of saying things but are mostly just Harry’s favourites and so in the recently used section. This message is good, it’s truthful and it’s playful at the same time and Louis can take it how he wants. Good.

 

Harry puts his phone in his pocket and tries to absorb himself in his book for the rest of the journey. He tries not to think about the message alert sound that he isn’t hearing.

 

-

 

Harry enters his hotel room and lies down on the bed. He’s unsure of what exactly he wants to do right now, feels the way he usually does upon arriving in another anonymous room with white bedding and cream walls and far too much space for just him and his thoughts. It’s eight and he’s really considering just having a shower, ordering some food, watching a bit of TV or something, and then going to sleep. He is running on almost no sleep after all, is surprised that he’s only now aware of how tired he is.

 

He opts for a bath instead of a shower, unpacking his bag properly mainly just because he wants to use his favourite bubble bath and light a candle that smells kind of like home. He catches a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror when he lights his candle beside his half full bath and he giggles almost hysterically. Lighting candles naked in a fancy bathroom is just… really funny. He also feels a bit rebellious because he knows you’re probably not even supposed to light candles in hotel rooms. This just makes Harry laugh harder- the fact that the media’s heartbreaker and troublemaker doesn’t get much naughtier or more single than this. He’s then all too aware of the fact that he’s laughing at himself and his situation while standing naked and alone in a hotel room bathroom lighting a candle. Life really is quite strange.

 

Harry is just about to get into the bath when he hears his phone vibrate from its place on the shelf above the sink. He goes over to it and checks who it’s from. He feels actual butterflies when he sees that Louis has replied to his message.

 

_Miss you already too! Hope Paris is good… bonjour je suis Louis et j’ai un cochon d’inde. (that’s pretty much the extent of my French!!! Sorry for late reply btw, was napping after my wild night out with a certain popstar xx_

 

Harry giggles delightedly at Louis’ reply and quickly types out a response:

                                   

**Ahhh bonjour Louis! That means guinea pig, right? I can tell you about the contents of my pencil case- or ‘mon trouse’ (I think?) and I can also say that je suis alle au cinema avec mes coupains et ma famille. Paris so far has just been cars and my hotel room, I’m rather tired out after a big night out with a certain student! Naked candle lighting too, but that’s story for another day xxxx**

 

Clearly, for Louis, naked candle lighting is not a story for another day, and Harry finds himself wrapped up in a non-stop text conversation about Harry’s bath and his candles and the disappointing pasta Louis just made himself and how language GCSEs teach you a lot of very useless ways to talk about yourself and your interests (and your pencil case) but not much else. Louis dares Harry to tell tomorrow’s crowd all about his pencil case and Harry finds himself agreeing.

 

Harry’s bath is cold by the time he remembers it, and after he’s pulled the plug out so he can either work on a new bath or have a shower instead, he informs Louis of this.

 

_Yeah, I overcooked my pasta and then forgot to eat it until it was almost cold. You’re a terrible distraction, Harry. Honestly!x_

 

A moment later he then sends:

 

_Does this mean you’ve been naked this whole time? I thought I told you I wasn’t that kind of boy ;) xx_

 

To which Harry replies:

 

**You’re the one who brought up my nakedness this time cheeky!xxx**

He then receives:

 

_Get in the bath you dirty boy!xxx_

 

Harry finally puts his phone down after that and gets in the shower, shaking his head and grinning to himself. He’s halfway through shampooing his hair when he sees his phone light up and hears its muffled vibrating sound. A jolt of excitement and adrenaline strikes him because it’s probably Louis again. For a moment he considers getting out the shower just to read it, but then he decides that would be ridiculous and he can wait a few minutes to finish washing his hair properly.

 

Once he’s dried himself off, Harry almost skips to the sink and his phone to read Louis’ newest text. Sadly, though, he’d guessed wrongly and this message wasn’t from Louis. It’s a short message from his assistant telling him he’s got a Skype meeting in the morning with his management about his public image. This meeting could in theory entail anything, really, but past experience has taught Harry that it is very unlikely to mean good news for him.

 

He sends Louis a quick goodnight text and tries to go to sleep. He just feels heavy and exhausted and ready for everything to just stop for a bit. His time with Louis had been the most beautiful break from it all and all he’s having trouble going back to his normality now. Harry is just tired of everything and he knows that even if he sleeps properly through the night and sleeps in he’ll wake up no less tired.

 

-

 

Harry feels kind of sorry for the employee they’ve chosen to be the bearer of bad news for this meeting. Apparently the big bosses are too busy to come in and so have briefed this slightly scared looking intern with the details that he’s been told are to follow soon in an email. He knows he should be quiet and complicit and just let this woman who has no more control than he does over the situation explain things to him, but there’s just this massive part of him that wants to fight it, wants to resist.

 

“We’re just saying it’s been a while since you were linked with anyone and this arrangement would be really beneficial to both of you because-”

 

“No, I get that. I really do. I just don’t see why the newest bit of gossip about me needs to be who I’m supposedly seeing.”

 

“Because that’s what sells. High profile relationship gossip or things that are truly scandalous. Scandals are out because we want to maintain your cheeky-but-ultimately-well-behaved persona, and at your age the only non career ruining scandals involve drugs and that contradicts that so-”

 

“What about the whole gay thing?” Harry asks. He’s not sure if he’s asking flippantly or bitterly. Mostly he’s just joking because he’s been told already that there’s basically no chance in hell that they’ll let him come out at this stage in his career. It will ruin him and them, apparently. More than once lately Harry’s wondered if it’s even worth all that.

 

“I’m afraid that isn’t the kind of-”

 

“I know.”

 

“Look, I’m really sorry and if there was anything I could do…”

 

“Thank you, I know. And I’m sorry for being difficult.” Harry says. She doesn’t deserve his sharp tone or his annoyance, she’s not the one pulling any of the strings here.

 

“It’s okay, we do understand your frustration. Just need to reiterate once more that this will give you that final push you need for the US market as well as put your name out there. This will open doors and-”

 

“Sorry to interrupt, but will everything you’re saying be in the email?”

 

“It will, yes.”

 

“Okay, then if you don’t mind I’d like to end this call please.” Harry says quietly, looking away from the camera at the top of his laptop. He doesn’t want her to see him cry.

 

They say slightly stiff and awkward goodbyes. Harry’s shaking as he closes his laptop and then throws himself face down onto the bed. He doesn’t know why this in particular is affecting him as much as it is, all he knows is that just the thought of it is making him both very anxious and, more than anything, incredibly hopeless. He knows this is just a part of celebrity life, that people get in PR relationships all the time, and that really he only has to put in minimal effort. He knows all that, but it’s just not the point really. It’s just… with every rumour, every pap walk, every answer to the question of what he looks for in a girl, Harry feels like he’s losing more and more of himself. Except… it’s not even loss, really. Because it’s still there. It’s not like pretending to be straight is making him any less gay, it’s just that pretending to be straight is making him feel less and less okay with who he is, with what he’s doing, and with what kind of message he’s putting across. He knows that the celebrity world as the general public see it is at least eighty-five percent lies, but there’s something about this part of him being such a lie, and having such a secret that shouldn’t have to be a secret and it’s just… it’s just not fair.

 

It’s not fair. Harry feels like such a whiny teenager as he screams that into his pillow. But that’s the truth of the matter, really. It’s not fair and it’s not right and Harry’s not okay with it. It’s not fair and he feels so alone and lost and angry about it all. He considers calling him mum, but he isn’t really sure what she can say, whether her words of comfort will comfort him or not, whether her anger on his behalf will make his feel any less intense.

 

Harry lies and waits for his bad mood to pass. It doesn’t, but in half an hour he needs to leave for a couple of interviews ahead of his show that night. He has half an hour to somehow try and pull himself out of his own head so he can be the person they all need him to be for the rest of the day and night. He turns o the TV and is relieved to find a channel playing nonstop episodes of Friends. Something Harry has learnt after multiple trips to multiple countries in multiple hotel rooms, is that you can usually always find a channel that’s playing reruns of Friends. There’s something comforting about that, he thinks, and it’s become a good way for him to calm himself down.

 

Harry realises gleefully as he half watches the TV and half doodles in his journal that it’s the Smelly Cat episode on at the moment. He makes a mental note to himself to maybe play a bit of Smelly Cat tonight, spontaneous sing-alongs always make for really good moments in between the big songs at his shows, and he likes to make sure that no show is exactly the same. He also has to do that thing he promised Louis he’d do- the telling his audience all about his pencil case in French.

 

It’s both startling and not even remotely surprising how a kind of warmth spreads all through him just at the thought of Louis and their ridiculous conversation and all the lovely that he is. He decides to send him a quick text, hoping to start up another nice long chat via iMessage.

 

**Sorry about my earlier and abrupt bedtime last night, I’m not usually such an old man when it comes to bed!! Hope uni was or is going well today xxx**

 

Harry is delighted to get a text back almost immediately:

 

_No worries old man- everything okay tho? Had a lecture at midday and I’ve got a seminar at four- do u think ill have time to read 300 pages by then? Oops! Anyway, hows Paris and have you taken a nice cheesy pic for me at the Eiffel tower yet? Xx_

There’s a part of Harry that wants to talk to Louis about everything that’s happened to make him feel unhappy today and last night… and for the last two years kind of. But he also feels like now is not the time and that just talking to Louis has already improved his mood so much that dwelling on bad stuff isn’t really a good idea right now. He checks the time and sees he only has five minutes before his car is scheduled to arrive.

 

In the car, Harry replies to Louis:

 

**Things are ok. Well seeing as you have like two hours… um, depending on your reading speed you can maybe do 100 pages? Then google the end and you can talk mainly about why you preferred the opening? Wait- why am I giving you studying advice, I’m not exactly the one to ask here!! Paris is still largely undiscovered by moi, will try to get you that Eiffel tower pic later tho! Did you know when I was younger I used to call in the Paris Point- think that has a nice ring to it, don’t you? Xxx**

 

It’s a long, rambling, silly message, but Harry kind of gets the impression Louis won’t mind.

 

Louis doesn’t mind. Louis loves it, in fact, if the almost twice as long message he sends back in reply is anything to go by.

 

Harry has to tear himself away from his conversation with Louis as he enters the room his first interview is in. He feels buoyant and happy and much more like himself as the interview and the following interviews go on. None of the questions are particularly invasive, and while he’s kind of bored he’s not annoyed at any of them, so that’s a win really. He feels kind of sorry for his fans, though, feels like if he was a fan he really wouldn’t give a shit what his favourite vegetable was or whether he preferred croissants or pain au chocolats.

 

-

 

The crowd that night is magical, and it’s one of those nights that reminds Harry of why exactly it is that he’s doing what he does. Going on stage always makes him feel more alive than just about anything else, and he hasn’t had a show as great as this one in a little while. He’s not sure if it’s his rendition of Smelly Cat or his butchering of the French language as he tells everyone about his ‘bleu stilo’ and his ‘gomme’ and his sister’s ‘deux lapins’. French animal words had suddenly come back to him in the midst of his pencil case recollections, and it was with delight that he’d sung the ‘tu as un animal’ song he’d learnt in Year Five to his audience as they cringed delightedly and laughed with him.

 

As they’re getting ready to leave the venue, the band ask Harry if he wants to go out with them that night and Harry isn’t really sure what to say. On one hand, he knows he’s only in Paris for the one night and should make the most of it. On the other hand, he feels kind of like he’s unlikely to really experience Paris from the inside of a club and isn’t really in the mood for clubbing anyway. He hopes the band don’t think he’s boring when he declines, but he feels quite a surprising amount of relief when the decision not to go has been made.

 

Instead, Harry decides to go on a scenic stroll back to his hotel. He feels slightly guilty asking his security guard, Tim, to walk with him, but then he remembers that it is kind of his job and that a stroll through Paris is certainly less taxing than a night out.

 

Harry gets Tim to take his picture with the Eiffel tower for Louis. He decides to do it like he’s holding it in his palm and smiles angelically. It’s getting dark as the photo’s taken and the tower is all lit up but somehow the picture comes out really nice, not too blurry at all. Harry sits down on the grass for a moment to send the photo to Louis. Instead of replying to the iMessage, Harry is delighted to see Louis’ calling to FaceTime him. He takes a moment before he speaks, just enjoying the loveliness of Louis’ lovely smile and lovely eyes.

 

“Did you like it then?” Harry asks Louis.

 

“Loved it, profile pic material I’d say actually!” Louis replies.

 

“Fab, I’ll change that in a minute.”

 

“You’ve really got to stop doing everything I say, Haz!” Louis giggles, “Loved that you did that bit about your pencil case, though.”

 

“You just have really good ideas, okay? Wait- does this mean you’ve been stalking my concert online?”

 

“Maybe. I may or may not have found a couple of lovely Harry Styles update blogs…” Louis says, raising an eyebrow.

 

“You have a tumblr?” Harry asks, surprised.

 

“I will neither confirm or deny.” Louis smirks.

 

“Why?”

 

“Honestly Haz, have you been living under a rock? Tumblr’s something loads of people do but it’s somehow also really cringe. Like if you want me to go into the specifics of the whole weird relationship tumblr uses tend to have with the website I will, but we’ll be here all night.” Louis explains.

 

“Just tell me about yours, please.” Harry knows he sounds demanding and annoying, but he is just really curious.

 

“It’s not a Harry Styles blog I’m afraid.” Louis says, and then raises a hand to his mouth as though in shock at himself.

 

“Gutted.” Harry replies, rolling his eyes.

 

“It’s just a standard shitty humour one. My likes are full of pictures of you, though. Might make a Harry Styles sideblog- call it something like ‘golden booted buffoon’.”

 

“I think that’s now the best insult I’ve ever received!”

 

“I have tons more if you want them.”

 

“Please.”

 

“Nah, has to come out organically.”

 

“Aha I wish I could-” Harry jokes and then cuts himself off. Oops. He really shouldn’t be disclosing things like this to someone he’s only known a little while, like he trusts Louis a lot but he does know you have to exercise caution and… just oops. It’s just that Louis is just so easy to talk to, that’s the problem.

 

“Wish you could what?” Louis asks, though something in his kind eyes and the way he says it- so gently, suggests he knows exactly what Harry meant. Harry knows in that moment that if he wanted him to, Louis would pretend he hadn’t said anything. It’s that realisation, really, that gives Harry the confidence and the trust to actually tell him.

 

“Wish I could come out,” Harry tells him, biting his lip. “I was just trying to make a flippant joke but like, y’know, I kind of forget that I can’t casually joke about my sexuality to people who don’t know and…”

 

“Well now I know, don’t I? And now we can make as many silly gay jokes about our own gayness as we like, can’t we?” Louis says gently, giving Harry the softest, sweetest smile. It makes Harry cry.

 

“Harry, babe, why are you crying?”

 

“It’s just… it’s just you’re so lovely and you make me feel so okay about things and I- I’ve just been really struggling a lot with this at the moment with my management because I’m like, not allowed to come out and it’s… it’s all going to only get worse for a while and- and it’s just a lot, you know?”

 

“Yeah, I see. I’m so sorry you’re having to go through all of this on your own. There are so many things I want to say now, but I think all I really want to do is give you a hug.”

 

“I wish you could give me a hug too.”

 

“Fucking France, hey?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

They end the call soon after, and Harry finds himself smiling as he walks the rest of the way back to the hotel. It’s as he’s letting himself into his hotel room that he begins to worry. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Louis, it isn’t that at all. It’s just that now he’s worried about what Louis might think of him, just that now he’s worried Louis will scorn him for being cowardly or, worse, pity him. He’s got no reason to worry about this, he knows. But still. It’s just a worry. He’s worried and he’s also weirdly full of relief and he’s also just so very tired. He puts on his headphones and tries to listen to soothing music in an attempt to calm himself down.

 

Harry’s worries somewhat dissipate about half an hour later, when he checks his phone and sees Louis’s sent him a series of snapchats documenting his messy uni kitchen, his flatmates arguing about whose turn it was to buy milk, and his slightly disastrous attempt at macaroni cheese. He’s just about to reply when another snap comes through, a gorgeous, glowing selfie of Louis captioned ‘sending hugs, proud of u h’. Harry almost cries at that, at how Louis seems to know exactly what he needs without him even having to say anything at all. He replies with a pouty selfie, adding the kissy face emoji and writing thank you in orange.

 

-

 

It’s almost alarming how quickly texting and talking to Louis becomes a part of Harry’s life that he never wants to be without. It’s only really when he’s onstage that he’s not itching to take his phone out of his pocket and talk more nonsense with him. That’s not to say he isn’t thinking about him on stage, though. No, onstage Louis is often on Harry’s mind. It’s Louis he thinks about when he sings all the songs that had been written for him, and somehow they finally start to make sense. It’s like, the more he knows Louis, the more he can relate to that feeling of wanting so desperately to kiss someone, of wanting nothing more than to just stop time to be with someone, of having so many things to say but sometimes really struggling to find the right words.

 

As much as Louis’ a good thing happening in Harry’s life, and as much as he’s enjoying playing sold-out shows around Europe, there’s still an awful lot hanging over him. In just two weeks time, his big PR relationship is supposed to start and Harry feels beyond hopeless about all of it. It’s just… not fair. And he knows that’s all he seems to have to say on the matter, but really that’s all there is. All he can feel is this burning anger that this is all apparently necessary, that his music isn’t enough, that he isn’t enough. More than anything, though, it goes further than the knowledge that he isn’t enough and becomes at least partly about how he as a person, by being gay, is apparently letting himself and his brand down. Most of the time he is able to feel that red hot anger at all the ways in which his management are trying to show him that his sexuality is a problem to be solved, but every now and then all these doubts flood his mind. It’s horrible, really.

 

It’s May and Harry’s currently in Barcelona, waiting in a car outside the airport to pick his mum and sister up. Their flight has already landed and they should be with him within minutes, and Harry is beyond excited to see them for the first time in nearly two months.  The car door is opened and Harry’s mum stumbles in, reaching straight for him. She holds him close and Harry feels the most okay he’s felt in a long time.

 

After dinner that night, the three of them sit together on the balcony of Harry’s hotel suite and Harry’s trying to fill them in properly on all of the decisions that have been made about his career going forwards.

 

“So basically, I’m allowed to write songs for my new album as long as I play along.” He finishes, sighing into his Sangria.

 

“Is it worth it?” Gemma asks, her tone neutral although Harry notices her exchanging a worried glance with his mum.

 

“I don’t know.” Harry replies, his voice barely more than a whisper. He’s never said this out loud before. “There’s no going back now even if it isn’t, though.”

 

“Darling, if you don’t want to do this I’m sure there’s-” his mum begins to say, Harry cuts her off with a vigorous shake of his head.

 

“There isn’t, though. Can we talk about something else?” he says shortly, and he knows he sounds like a bit of a brat but is too eager to leave the subject behind.

 

“Okay then, are you seeing anyone?” Gemma quickly asks instead.

 

“Gemma!” their mum scolds.

 

“I’m only asking! you have been checking your phone and smiling at it far more frequently than you usually do. Do you have a boyfriend?”

 

“No, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

 

“So why are you blushing and who is it you’re texting?”

 

“His name’s Louis and he isn’t my boyfriend.”

 

“Would you like him to be?” Gemma asks, raising an eyebrow.

 

“I’m not answering that!” Harry blushes.

 

“What’s he like and how did you meet?” his mum asks.

 

“We met back in March in a kebaby in Cardiff. He’s a student and he’s electric.”

 

“Who even uses that as the second descriptor of someone they fancy? Electric?! Already writing songs for him then? He must be a very special boy.” Gemma teases, and Harry rolls his eyes before finding himself then describing Louis to them both in detail.

 

“Yeah, electric. Like there’s so much life to him, he’s so vivid and funny and quick and he’s… he’s like lightning, or something. He’s so dynamic and charismatic, but he’s also so soft and warm and gentle and he’s fiercely intelligent and yet in such a quiet way. He’s the first person I’ve ever met who I just clicked with. It was so immediate, I’d known him for an hour and it felt like I’d known him a year. He’s shit at cooking if his snapchats are anything to go by, and he’s studying English Lit. He likes reading but gets bored really easily and hates sitting still for too long. He’s good at football and great at writing but he’s really shy about his writing. He likes to tease me about my boot collection but he has at least six pairs of converse even though he only wears the black ones that are covered in doodles and mud. He grew up in Doncaster and he has four sisters, though his mum’s just found out she’s going to have twins and- what?” he stops when he sees them both giving him strange, indulgent grins.

 

“Are you sure he isn’t your boyfriend?” his mum asks.

 

“He isn’t my boyfriend. We’ve only met in person once.” Harry says, sighing.

 

“When are you seeing him again?” Gemma asks.

 

“He’s going to hopefully come and stay with me in London over the summer.” Harry tells them, unable to keep what he knows is the slightly pathetic eagerness and excitement out of his voice.

 

“I’m glad you’ve found someone who makes you so happy,” his mum smiles.

 

“He’s just a friend,” Harry mumbles, blushing. He’s slightly embarrassed over how he’s just talked in length about his slightly enormous crush on Louis.

 

“Well either way, I’m glad you found him.” She says, and Harry nods before turning the conversation around to Gemma’s new job and boyfriend.

 

 

3- LOUIS

 

Louis is sitting in Costa at a motorway services trying to calm himself down. His double shot hazelnut latte probably isn’t doing much to help soothe him or his nerves, but it’s not like Louis’ ever been the type to go for a cappuccino or Americano when there are far sweeter and more fun drinks to choose. If Harry was here, he’d get an iced soy latte with vanilla syrup. The fact that Louis knows this despite never having been to Costa, or anywhere other than a kebab shop, with Harry probably says a lot. That’s maybe partly why Louis is freaking out quite a lot right now. It’s just… he’s only met Harry in person once, and yet he feels like he knows him better than just about anyone else. It’s just… he and Harry have only seen each other in the flesh once and Louis already has all these feelings and he has no idea what it’s going to be like in less than two hours when he sees him again.

 

He sends Harry a quick snapchat of his coffee and writes “Will be with you soon” with the hiding monkey emoji. Harry replies immediately with a gorgeous grinning selfie and thumbs up emoji. Louis feels that fuzzy bubbly happiness and his nerves about seeing Harry again are replaced by excitement. He finishes his coffee, goes for a wee, and then gets back in his car to continue his journey to Harry. Harry had offered to send a car for him, but Louis had insisted on driving himself.

 

Louis has another moment of nervousness when his phone tells him he’s just five minutes away from his destination. He can’t put his finger on why exactly he’s so nervous about seeing Harry again- actually, he can, but he’s really a bit too worried and unsure to allow himself to properly entertain the thoughts he’s been having about Harry. It’s just that he likes him a lot, more than he’s ever liked any one before. And it’s a bit scary having feelings like that.

 

As he drives through the very fancy area that Harry’s house is in, Louis feels almost guilty for assaulting all these posh houses and cars and people with the sight of his scruffy little car. It looks very out of place there, and Louis kind of feels very out of place there too. He’s driving slowly, as he knows he’s only about four houses away from Harry’s so he needs to keep an eye on the house names and numbers. Finally, he reaches the large gate with the number Harry told him on it, and with a deep breath Louis rolls down his window (yes, his car is _that_ old) and presses the intercom.

 

“I’m here, Haz!” He says straight away, and he hears a delightful giggle from Harry and then there’s a beep and the gates open. Louis drives through and up the long driveway, stopping when he sees Harry running out to meet him.

 

Louis stops his car and gets out the moment he sees Harry and they run into each other’s arms. Harry picks Louis up and spins him around. It’s like that scene at the end of most romantic comedies and Louis has no words.

 

-

 

Louis soon finds himself sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar in Harry’s extravagant, yet very tasteful kitchen. There’s a tin of biscuits in front of them and they’ve just been drinking tea, nibbling on Hob Nobs, and talking complete shit for the last half hour. Harry’s now bustling around the kitchen making them both a late lunch of cheese toasties and fruit salad.

 

“The fruit isn’t going in the toastie though, right?” Louis asks, hopping down from his stool and going over to Harry.

 

“No, of course not, you idiot. That said, apples and grapes in particular go very well with cheese, so maybe…” Harry replies thoughtfully, and Louis thinks he’s maybe two seconds away from telling Harry he’s fallen in love with the thoughtful little frown creasing his forehead.

 

“I’ll pass, thanks.” Louis says instead, pulling a disgusted face.

 

“Honestly, Louis, I’m just trying to broaden your palate.” Harry says, sounding alarmingly like a concerned parent. Louis giggles.

 

“Honestly, Harry, I’m just trying to spare my taste buds.” Louis tells him, mocking his tone. Instead of replying, Harry throws a grape at him.

 

They end up having quite an epic grape fight which results in slightly burnt toasties, hysterical laughter, and Harry almost tripping over the grapes they hadn’t yet picked up more times than Louis can count. It’s a perfect lunch.

 

They spend the rest of the afternoon playing fifa and watching _Coronation Street_. The Corrie thing is an amazing quirk of Harry’s that Louis hadn’t previously been aware of. It’s not a quirk because he watches it, it’s that he records every episode while he’s away from the UK and then catches up. On every single episode. They’re currently about a month away from Weatherfield’s most recent events, and Louis’ doing his best to keep his mouth shut because he’s up to date after watching it regularly while at home with his mum and sisters. The next episode comes on and they both try to sing along to the instrumental theme and they look at each other sitting on opposite ends of the sofa and Louis is so tempted to reach over and kiss Harry. He doesn’t, though. Instead, they sit and watch as this episode’s dilemma in the knicker factory takes place on their screen.

 

“Remember when that girl Katie killed her dad?”

 

“Fucking hell, Haz, that was like ten years ago or something!”

 

“I know, yeah. I think I remember it so well because it was the first time I’d like, seen actual killing happen on TV- ya know?” Harry muses, and Louis nods.

 

“Yeah, I get it. Remember when Richard the serial killer killed Maxine?”

 

“God, I’d forgotten about Richard. Poor Gail’s been through far too much.”

 

“David pushing her down the stairs and everything!” Louis remembers how after that episode, his sisters had been so careful never to have arguments on the stairs again.

 

“I’m glad I don’t live on Coronation Street.” Harry comments.

 

“It would be alright if you weren’t part of the drama too often. I wouldn’t mind being like nosy Norris.” Louis replies, laughing.

 

“Rita’s cool too.” Harry says.

 

“She is. Be the Rita to my Norris?” Louis asks. He regrets it immediately, because obviously Rita and Norris are never going to happen and he doesn’t want to imply… why is he even overthinking this?

 

“Sure. Guess that’s safer than being the Audrey to your Ken.”

 

“Poor Audrey.”

 

“Why does no one get happy endings?” Harry pouts.

 

“Because it’s a soap opera, Harold.” Louis sighs.

 

“I know, but still.”

 

“Well sometimes they do, like when they give the character the old drive off into the sunset and to a better future.” Louis replies, not entirely sure why he feels the need to protect Harry from the lack of happily ever afters on Corrie. “Hayley and Roy had a kind of happily ever after until… well.”

 

“I miss their love.”

 

“Me too.”

 

-

 

They order Chinese that night and seeing Harry try and fail the whole way through the meal to use chopsticks is basically all it takes for Louis to admit to himself once and for all how completely gone he is for this boy.

 

After they’ve finished eating, Harry puts on a film for them to watch and then manages to fall asleep before the opening credits have even ended. Louis takes this opportunity to just look at him and think. Harry’s just so… just so very beautiful in all of the ways that Louis thinks a person can be beautiful. He looks absolutely beautiful, and yet somehow manages to be even more beautiful on the inside. Louis wonders if it’s even possible to meet Harry and not fall at least a little bit in love with him.

 

Harry wakes up about halfway through the film and Louis’ only slightly ashamed to be crying over it at this point. He is in that tiny percentage of the population who haven’t watched The Notebook before, after all.

 

“Lou, what happened?” Harry asks, worried.

 

“It’s just… sad, you know? He’s building her a house and- and he doesn’t even know if he’ll ever see her again!” Louis says tearfully.

 

“It’ll be okay, Lou, just you wait and see.” Harry replies, and Louis thinks maybe he stops breathing for a moment when Harry moves across the sofa to put an arm around him. Louis gratefully snuggles into Harry’s side and all of a sudden he doesn’t really care about the couple in the film any more.

 

They miss the end of the film because they fall asleep there on the sofa in each other’s arms.

 

-

 

Louis is woken by Harry gently pulling him up and off the sofa. He’s sleepy and disoriented and it’s dark in the room apart from the light created by the DVD’s title screen on the TV. It takes him a moment to work out where he is and what’s going on, and when he does he finds himself trying to pull Harry back down with him, wanting to go back to sleep.

 

“Lou, it really would be better to sleep in a bed,” Harry says, his voice even deeper than usual and his tone amused.

 

“I like cuddling with you here, though.” Louis pouts.

 

“We can still cuddle if you want.”

 

“Okay, carry me to bed then please, Hazza.” Louis asks, extra brave in all his tiredness. Harry laughs his delightful little laugh and then picks Louis up. Louis hears himself make a pleased noise and snuggles into the space between Harry’s neck and shoulder, he smells amazing.

 

Harry carries him upstairs, and Louis feels both more awake and more sleepy the longer he spends in Harry’s arms. It feels so comfortable and nice and it feels kind of like when you’ve been away from home for a long time and you finally get to sleep in your own bed. At the same time he’s in Harry’s arms and he’s having all these feelings and it’s also kind of like he’s never felt more alive.

 

Harry’s bedroom is all soft light and warm colours and the faint smell of coconut. Harry walks to the left side of the bed and sets Louis down, he then looks closely at him. Louis stares back and he wonders for the millionth time that night if he’s ever seen anything as beautiful as Harry. He’s too busy wondering if Harry can tell from his expression how much he adores him to notice that Harry’s looking back at him with a similar level of wonderment.

 

“You’re beautiful,” Harry says to him softly. Louis wonders if his heart has ever felt so full.

 

“You’re beyond beautiful.” Louis replies.

 

“Always trying to outdo me!” Harry giggles.

 

“Yeah,” Louis agrees.

 

“Lou?” Harry asks.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Can I kiss you?” his voice barely a whisper. Louis doesn’t even consider replying with the standard sassy ‘I don’t know _can_ you?’.

 

“Please.” Louis says instead, moving so he’s sitting rather than lying on the bed and making space for Harry right next to him.

 

Harry sits down beside him, and Louis knows how cliché it is to say but it’s like everything’s suspended in space and time as Harry leans closer still. Louis is the one who closes the gap between them then, softly pressing his lips to Harry’s. It only lasts about five seconds and their mouths stay closed but somehow it’s still the most intimate kiss Louis thinks he’s ever had. Louis’ never considered himself a poet but he thinks maybe he could write endless sonnets about Harry’s lips on his.

 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time.” Harry says.

 

“Are you quoting _Juno_?”

 

“Unintentionally so! I have though- wanted to kiss you. Wanted to kiss you for ages.”

 

“Same, babe. Been thinking about it pretty much ever since I met you.”

 

“Can I kiss you again?”

 

“Please do, yeah.”

 

Louis isn’t sure how long they then spend sharing soft kisses, gentle touches, and sleepy comments. He isn’t sure what time it is or even if time continues to be something that exists. They do fall asleep eventually, though, tangled together on top of the covers.

 

-

 

The first thing Louis sees when he wakes up is Harry’s sweet but slightly anxious smile. The second thing he sees is a large cup of tea placed on the bedside table beside him. Louis isn’t great with words first thing in the morning, needs a minute and a few sips of tea before he starts to feel like a person again. Luckily, Harry seems to understand this as he simply stretches out on the other side of the bed sipping a drink that Louis is outraged to notice is not tea.

 

“We’ve been talking to each other for months now Harold, and only now do you reveal that you’re more of a coffee person really?” Louis comments in mock outrage as he sips his tea.

 

“I like both!” Harry protests, “it’s just I prefer coffee first thing in the morning. I need that extra caffeine, ya know?”

 

“Hmm.” Louis tries to frown, but Harry’s doing a silly defensive little pout and it’s all just far too sweet and lovely and endearing for Louis to do anything but giggle and hope desperately that Harry will let him kiss him again. They should probably talk about that. In a minute, though, Louis doesn’t feel quite awake enough just yet.

 

When he’s finished half his tea, Louis turns his full attention back to Harry. He’s both surprised and not surprised at all to see Harry is looking at him in a way that makes Louis feel almost breathless.

 

“So I-” Louis starts to say at the same time as Harry begins speaking with a “Louis, I-”

 

They both just look at each other again for a moment and shake their heads.

 

“You first,” Louis says decisively.

 

“Okay. Um, I just thought we should probably talk about how we kissed last night.” Harry says, biting his lip. Louis tries to manage his expectations and prepare himself for the possibility that Harry’s maybe about to say he’d like to pretend it never happened.

 

“Yeah, we should.” Louis agrees.

 

“I want to kiss you again. I want… I want to do a lot of things with you, Lou. I really really really like you, and I know we haven’t known each other long and most of it’s been long distance and I know it’s a slightly mad situation, but it’s just… it’s just, like I have a lot of good things in my life, like I am so very lucky and I know that, but somehow you’re quickly becoming the brightest thing of all and I just… I want all of you, Louis.” Harry says most of this very quickly and nervously, biting his lip when he’s finished. Louis is almost speechless.

 

“I want all of you too, Harry,” is all Louis can think to say in return. There are a lot of other things he could say, he knows. A lot of things that will come to his mind in moments that he’ll wish he’d been able to articulate at this exact moment. He wishes he could voice the way he feels as well as Harry right there and then. But none of that really matters, really, there will be time for that later. Right now there’s a beautiful boy lying on the bed next to him who feels the same way he does, and Louis thinks maybe right now is no longer a time for words.

 

Instead, Louis moves so he’s lying close enough to Harry to feel his breath on his face. He’s about to kiss him but then remembers that he hasn’t brushed his teeth yet and has just had tea.

 

“Haz, I want to kiss you but my breath is awful. Can we pause for like three minutes?” Louis asks.

 

“Mine’s bad too, I don’t mind-”

 

“Yes, but I do. It’s too early in our relationship for morning breath kisses!” Louis explains, pulling Harry up off the bed with him and leading him to the en suite. It’s possibly rude to lead someone around their own house, but Louis knows Harry won’t mind.

 

“Our relationship hmm?” Harry asks, raising an eyebrow as he puts toothpaste on both his and Louis’ toothbrushes.

 

“Yep.” Louis grins before accepting his toothbrush and cleaning his teeth.

 

Louis tries not to think about how beautifully domestic this scene already is -- he and Harry standing at the double sinks in Harry’s large en suite bathroom, cleaning their teeth together. Brushing teeth is not something Louis thought would ever cause there to be butterflies in his stomach, but since meeting Harry he’s learning that a lot of mundane activities can in fact lead to feelings.

 

“I really like you.” Harry says again after they’ve both spat and rinsed.

 

“Good. I really like you too.” Louis replies. He looks at Harry’s beautiful face reflected in the mirror and then turns to look at him properly and that’s kind of just it, really. Louis launches himself at Harry and starts to kiss him. Their breath is minty fresh and Louis loves the slight tingly feel of whatever toothpaste it was they’d just used. Harry picks Louis up and sits him on the counter, making it possible for Louis to wrap his legs around Harry’s middle and reach up to tangle a hand in Harry’s beautiful curls as Harry kisses his neck.

 

It all gets very heated very quickly, and as much as Louis wants to continue, he also knows they need to slow things down a bit.

 

“Haz, babe. Can we just pause a moment?” Louis asks, pulling away and dropping a quick peck on Harry’s flushed cheek.

 

“Of course we can. Did I do something wrong or like, did I-”

 

“Nah, nothing’s wrong. I just think we should talk a bit before we rush into taking things any further, okay?” Louis explains, and Harry nods.

 

“I’ll get us some breakfast and we can talk.” Harry agrees, leading Louis downstairs with him.

 

Louis puts the kettle on again to make them both another cup of tea while Harry puts bread in the toaster and takes a few different boxes of cereal out of the cupboard. Louis gets the milk out of the fridge and stirs some into their tea as he thinks about what he wants to say to Harry. It’s not that he doesn’t want to have sex with him, far from it. It’s just that Louis has no idea whether or not Harry has any experience with it and isn’t sure Harry’s aware of quite how inexperienced Louis himself is. He doesn’t want to disappoint or make things awkward, and he knows that it’s definitely right that they talk it through first.

 

Harry cuts up an orange and puts the bowl with the segments in on the table with the rest of the food. Louis carries their mugs of tea over and they start eating. Louis explains to Harry the very delicate process of creating the perfect combination of various cereals and teases Harry about how all his cereals seem to be healthy and organic. No sign of a coco pop anywhere, much to Louis’ dismay, and the Shreddies are neither frosted nor chocolate.

 

“So um, we need to talk about stuff.”

 

“Yeah, we do. Specifically the sexy stuff,” Louis clarifies, not wanting them to be embarrassed or skirt around the issue. He’s always felt like you shouldn’t really be sleeping with someone if you feel you can’t talk about it first with them.

 

“Specifically the sex stuff, yeah.” Harry agrees and waits for Louis to say more. Louis finishes his last bite of marmite toast before he begins.

 

“Okay, well I’m going to start by saying I absolutely want to have sex and do things with you, but I think I just need you to know from the star that I am really quite inexperienced. I slept with a girl once when I was sixteen and trying to prove to myself I liked girls… big turning point actually! Beyond that, I’ve kissed a few boys and given a couple of handjobs and one very drunk blowjob. So um… yeah.” Louis finishes, blushing slightly. He knows, though, that he shouldn’t be embarrassed about this, that there’s no rush and that it’s good that he’s never felt that pressure to do things he wasn’t all that fussed about doing.

 

“Yeah I’m um… even less experienced, actually,” Harry replies. “I realised I was gay when I was sixteen and hadn’t done more than kiss girls. Then um, my career took off and like, I guess I could have slept with boys then, but it would have been more of a hassle because of the closeting and like, I never met anyone worth that. Until you.”

 

“Until me. Wow, yeah I mean I just… I always wanted to wait to do these things until I was in a relationship. And I’ve never had a boyfriend before, so…” Louis trails off, realising he just accidentally basically called Harry his boyfriend.

 

Luckily, Harry doesn’t seem to mind. Far from it.

 

“Boyfriends then?” he smiles, “I like it.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah, really. Kiss me now please boyfriend.”

 

“Okay, boyfriend.” Louis giggles, muttering “we’re gross” into Harry’s mouth. Harry laughs and just kisses him harder.

 

 

EPILOGUE

-HARRY-

 

(2 Years later)

 

It’s strange, really, how anticlimactic it all ends up being. A carefully crafted plan made by himself and his management to make it all seem as organic as it isn’t. A couple of carefully ambiguous comments here and there to get people talking followed by confirmation of the speculation via Instagram. Harry does love the picture he’d chosen for it, though. It’s Louis, mainly, with Harry only just about in frame. It’s Louis giggling and grinning his beautiful grin, eyes all crinkly and bright as Harry in the background holds up their squirming kitten, Tetley Tomlinstyle, in the classic Lion King pose. He’d captioned it with ‘Home’ and added the home emoji, the boyfriends emoji, the heart eyes cat emoji, and the hearts in rainbow colour order.

 

“Do you think that’s obvious enough, though?” Louis asks, looking at it on his own phone as he gets his notification for it.

 

“What d’you mean?” Harry asks, frowning as he lies across Louis on the sofa, putting his head in his lap.

 

“Well, ya know, could be interpreted as you talking about your laddy bro pal who shares your enthusiasm for bright colours and cats,” Louis shrugs and Harry realises he’s just teasing him. After two and a bit years, he’s not sure why he ever takes anything Louis says seriously.

 

“Is this your way of saying we should have gone for a full on kiss pic?” Harry asks.

 

“If it will make you kiss me right now, yeah.” Louis says

 

“I already have like a ton of those.” Harry teases, wanting to wind Louis up and make him work for it.

 

“Mmm we’re gross. Kiss me!” Louis demands.

 

“Demanding.” Harry replies, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Harreeeeey,” Louis whines.

 

“Looooueeey,” Harry copies Louis’ tone.

 

“Kiss me?” Louis asks again.

 

“No.” Harry says, trying not to laugh at his boyfriend’s grumpy little pout.

 

“What was the point in outing yourself on Instagram if you’re not going to give your wonderful boyfriend kisses after?” Louis grumbles.

 

“I was just using you to help me come out.” Harry jokes.

 

“Obviously.” Louis nods, and then the most delicious giggle bubbles from his lips and all of Harry’s pointless resolve crumbles and he sits up and attaches their lips.

 

It’s been years now, and Harry still feels that same electric pull when he looks at Louis. It gets only stronger the closer they get. It’s been years, and Harry is pretty sure he falls more in love with Louis every day.

 

A flash goes off and Harry sees that Louis’ stolen his phone and has taken the kiss pic he obviously wants Harry to post.

 

“You’re such a menace.”

 

“You love me.”

 

“I do. So much, Lou. Like you have no idea.”

 

“I love you too, Haz. Like crazy amounts.”

 

“Love you.” Harry says again, kissing Louis on his sweet lovely little nose, “You’re going to love the caption.” he tells Louis as he types it out.

 

“‘My boyfriend was concerned that my last post was too ambiguous. For the record I’m very gay and very in love with him (and our cat)’” Louis reads aloud as soon as it’s been posted and giggles before pulling Harry closer and kissing his forehead.

 

Five minutes later, Tetley comes and lies on Harry’s chest. She falls asleep within moments and the two of them just stare at her and listen to her cute kitten snuffly snores.

 

“You snore like that,” Harry comments, not for the first time.

 

“You’ve said. Your snores are far less cute, to be honest with you.” Louis replies, flicking Harry’s nose gently. Harry catches Louis’ hand as he goes in to flick him again and just kisses it instead.

 

They fall asleep like that, on the sofa holding hands with a snoring kitten squished in between them. Everything is soft and peaceful and perfect.


End file.
